


A Pinecone Carpet

by TrisB



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-16
Updated: 2006-08-16
Packaged: 2017-10-29 04:48:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrisB/pseuds/TrisB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She likes the firmness with which he holds her when they dance (when they do dance); she likes the graceless tap of his feet, and his fingers, strong and safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pinecone Carpet

To make up for the hockey game incident, Roy suggests a skating adventure of their own as Date Number Two, but Pam's kind of bitter, so they go for a walk instead. The snow is still soft from a morning flurry, and the trees they walk between are all daubed and dripping white. Roy's eyes light up when he talks about hunting in the woods with his dad, and he breaks most silences first, eager to point out every oddity of nature and to pass on bits of forest lore.

"Pennsylvania has the most trees per person of any state in America," Roy tells her importantly, puffed-up and proud like he planted them himself.

"I think that's Pittsburgh," Pam replies after a moment. "Isn't it that they have the most trees per capita of any city?" She wrinkles her nose.

Roy's proprietary appreciation of the land doesn't change. "Whatever, you know? A lot of trees." He smiles into the grey sky.

Pam didn't think athletes liked nature. She didn't think he'd let her correct him, or that she'd let him take her out again. She didn't think any of this would happen.

He kisses her finally on their third date, and afterwards, he laughs. "Man, I wanted to do that for a long time. You woulda kicked me in the nuts if I tried it after the game."

She pretends to consider it. "Yeah. Probably." She can't help grinning too, and his mouth quirks and she discovers that her hands are fluttering and twisted against one another. "Once you came and got me, that is."

Roy's cheeks are flushed but she doesn't think he's embarrassed. "Just wait till you make a mistake, too, sister," he teases, and Pam redirects her restless hands to the collar of his shirt, and thinks giddily that this is the farthest from a mistake she's made, maybe, ever.

When he gets distracted talking to his brother about Rose Bowl prospects the first time Pam comes over, she slips away and wanders, peeking into every room until she's sure she's found his. Roy is legal now, but his bedroom remains all boy — plaid flannel sheets that she's sure his mother still changes, trophies dusty but prominent, a casual masculine neatness that speaks more of disinterest in clothing and decorations than any real organization. Her own bedroom says so much about her, but standing in Roy's she doesn't feel enlightened at all.

"What are you doing, sneaky?" he asks, peering in. It takes Pam a moment to recover.

"Raiding your panty drawer," she says with gravitas, holding her hands behind her back. "I'm sorry, I know it's wrong. I couldn't...couldn't help myself."

"Want a piece of me, huh?"

Pam nods solemnly and looks down, eyes on kelly berber.

"Then I'll have to take a piece of you, too." Roy extends his hands in menacing claws, and Pam's eyes go wide as he grabs her and begins to tickle.

"I — hate — tickling!" She squeals and shakes, but his touch is fairly light, and if she giggles as loud as she can and keeps her eyes on his wicked expression, seventeen years of discomfort aren't so hard to forget.

She likes the firmness with which he holds her when they dance (when they do dance); she likes the graceless tap of his feet, and his fingers, strong and safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's commentary [here](http://allbackups.dreamwidth.org/349027.html).


End file.
